


His

by distractionpie



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Kink Meme, M/M, Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-04
Updated: 2015-07-04
Packaged: 2019-08-05 06:44:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16362866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/distractionpie/pseuds/distractionpie
Summary: Kinkmeme prompt: Samson is Cullen's Alpha and has been since they were in Kirkwall together. He fucks Cullen in front of the Red Templars to show them all who this omega belongs to while talking about how he'll get Cullen pregnant and all the babies they'll have and how pretty he'll look. Cullen absolutely loves it.





	His

**Author's Note:**

> another backdated kinkmeme work because my worries about losing old fic outweigh my old worries about having this sort of stuff linked to my account - and honestly in the years since i first wrote this i've got a lot more comfortable with just owning the weird shit straight off the bat

His Cullen is preoccupied during dinner, fidgeting and avoiding meeting Samson's eyes. He clears his plate though, not a crumb of the meal that Samson has provided for him wasted. Samson watches him sip at his water once they are both finished, until finally Cullen stands and nods. Samson offers Cullen is arm as they walk through to the sitting room, and Cullen presses in closer to his side that usual, as if clinging will help him ward off his unwarranted nerves.

The men are gathered, waiting, and Samson smirks. He'd thought about limiting numbers, but it was useful to know how many of the men were panting after his Cullen, and to make it clear in their minds that Cullen was his. There are a few dozen standing and sitting at the edges of the room, all so eager to see him claim Cullen that they were willing to miss a meal to wait. 

The reach the centre of the room and Cullen presses close to brush a chaste kiss to Samson's lips b before turning away to remove the light armour he's been wearing, a sensible precaution, because Samson would never want harm to come to him, but one not needed here – every one of Samson's men would die before they let harm come to Cullen, if only out of fear of what Samson would do to those who didn't. Once the armour is racked, he removes and folds his shirt, and as his hands move to the laces of his breeches Samson looks out at his men, at their wide eyes and slack jaws, and smiles. This display will be an important reminder for them – that if they thought hard enough they might one day achieve be worthy of an omega of their own, although there were none who were equal to his Cullen.

Once Cullen has stripped, Samson guides him to lay down on some Orlesian bit of nonsense furniture, no use to a soldier, but comfortable enough for his Cullen to rest on and formed in such a manner that the men would have a clear view without either of them having to contort themselves foolishly.

Cullen needs no prompting to lift and spread his bent legs, settling himself bared and wide open for Samson to take. His hole already glistens with leaking slick. “You've been so good, so patient,” Samson acknowledges, probing with a single finger, feeling his Cullen clench eagerly around him. “Wanting me to fill you up, but waiting so nicely so I can show my men how good you are.” 

He thrusts two fingers into Cullen, curving them to scoop up some of the slick before withdrawing, letting it drip from his fingers so that his men could see just how wet his omega is for him. “You've been ready for me to have whenever I wanted, so sweet, but you'd have soaked through your clothes for everyone to see if I'd made you hold out much long, wouldn't you?” Cullen flushes but doesn't deny it, and Samson leans in to press a kiss to his lips in reward.

“I've got you,” he reassures, as he presses a third finger in, testing the stretch of him. Cullen squirms a little, control slipping now he's so close to getting what he wants, but Samson needs to be sure – he wouldn't harm Cullen for anything.

He works his fingers back and forth, pulls them out entirely to land a light slap on the curve of Cullen's arse when he pouts and huffs impatiently, but after a dozen strokes Cullen is relaxed, slick trickling down to pool on the fabric beneath him and Samson is confident in his Cullen's readiness.

He unlaces his breeches, having sported less armour than usual today for the purposes of this display. He is not about to bare himself before his men though, nor anywhere other than the security of his quarters. Most were smart enough to fear him, but there was always the risk that some upstart would get carried away with jealousy over Cullen and attempt to challenge him.

“I'm going to fuck you now, my Cullen. Stuff you with my cock and give you exactly what you need, and all of these men are going to watch and see just how precious you are, how magnificent you look being filled up and fucked well like you deserve.”

“Yes,” Cullen hisses, but the men nearest the sides of the room might not have heard that so Samson just rubs teasing circles against his entrance until Cullen tosses his head and says, louder, “Yes. Please, yes.”

 

The first press into Cullen is bliss, as it always it, the way his soft passage grips Samson and the heat of him. The way that Cullen moans his satisfaction at finally getting what he needs. He rocks his hips, taking his time to let Cullen relax into the fullness, smoothing a hand along the back of his thigh and so that Cullen wraps his legs around Samson.

“Look at you my Cullen, everyone is looking at you, you're so good for me,” he admires. “In ancient times there would be fights to the death for a chance to lay claim to an omega like you.” He diverts his gaze from Cullen momentarily to glare at their audience and remind them that an audience is all they will have be. “I will fight and kill any who would try and take you from me, my Cullen.” Cullen strains upwards then, so Samson leans down and allows Cullen to press eager kisses upon him. “I will keep you safe and mine, and if when I've fucked you my seed takes root, well we shall all be safe together.” Cullen quivers at this, one hand reaching out to grasp and Samson. 

It's an appealing notion. Cullen is a blessed relief from the hardship of being Corephyus's general, but he still wears armour, still practises some with his sword, because Samson cannot shelter him entirely from the war. But a little one, innocent and unsullied, one who would sit at their knees and never know even a moment of pair or fear, kept entirely safe and cared for by them both – it is an aspiration that Samson knows will haunt his dreams until it is achieve.

“Yes,” he says, thrusting hard into Cullen with every word. "A baby in you, staring a family of our own. They'd have your hair, your eyes, and all of my power to support them, we shall be the envy of every parent in Thedas. A boy first, then a girl."

Cullen shakes his head. "First a boy  _and_  a girl," he corrects, and Samson groans at the thought of it, that his Cullen is so well cared for that his body might offer up twins, and at the idea of Cullen so perfectly full up with their children and resting in their bed, ripe and fruitful and ready for taking. He can picture how his Cullen will look in a few months, desperate and eager as Samson fucks him slow, mindful of his growing belly, stroking that stretched skin, maybe even feeling a kick.

He runs his hands up the taut plain of Cullen's stomach imagining the way it would swell, hidden at first beneath his layers, a secret for the two of them but expanding over the months until anybody who saw him would be able to admire the way he carried their children.

His hands drift upwards to Cullen's muscular chest, flicking at the two soft points that made Cullen yelp and shiver with pleasure but will serve another purpose once Samson's seed had quickened in him.

"This won't be the last the men see of these," he says, with a pinch that made Cullen's hips jerk wildly. "Oh but next time they'll be all full up too, your belly full of my child and your teats overflowing with milk for them."

"Everyone will see," Cullen gasps out, though Samson wasn't sure if he was talking to himself or to Samson.

"That's right, you'd never let them go hungry," Samson agrees. Cullen and the children will be secluded at first but once they've fully recovered from the birth he will ensure that everyone has the chance to envy what he will have: a gorgeous, eager omega and strong, healthy children. He knows Cullen won't hesitate to bare his chest and let their children suckle him when they require it, whether in front of a dozen of their men, or on the steps of the grand cathedral in Val Royeaux.

Cullen's hips lift to meet each of Samson's thrusts and Samson wonders if that will be different when Cullen is heavy with child, if weighed down he will simply lie back and take it, let Samson grip the soft curves he'd develop and drive into him, sweet and easy.

 

There is much to admire about his Cullen's form, the smooth skin and toned muscle, but Samson thinks that pregnancy will suit him perfectly. “You're so gorgeous, but when you're grown full with child,” he pauses, no, “Children,” he corrects, because that is what Cullen wants and Samson has sworn that Cullen will lack for nothing with him. “The children will make you so beautifully soft. Your thighs and hips will grow so thick to support them,” he squeezes the mentioned parts, firm now but he can already imagine the change. “Your squeezable arse and the curve of your belly, soft and safe just as you are meant to be. Kept like that would suit you, a babe in each arm and another in your belly-”

Cullen whimpers and Samson can feel Cullen's cock twitching against his belly in time the with the fluttering clenches of his hole. He's heard that some omegas need to be touched there sometimes to help them to climax like one would a beta, but it's never something they've needed. He remembers how pleased Cullen was the very first time Samson had him, when he realised how well Samson was capable of fucking him, whimpering his thanks as Samson had held him tight and filled him up. It hadn't been long before he'd been begging Samson to claim him, as if anybody could have refused.

He knows that some of the alpha's among his men have been hanging around Cullen when Samson can't be with him, even a few cocky betas have eyed him, but that will stop now, now that they've seen how well Samson pleases his pretty omega, how Cullen loves him, how he needs him, how they could never dream of competing.

He leans over and kisses Cullen again, an awkward stretch but he'd do far more for even the slightest brush of Cullen's pretty pink lips. It's been a while since he's had Cullen's mouth, but once Samson's seed has taken hold in him Cullen will be more than willing to kiss and lap and swallow him down and then Samson can spill on his face, or perhaps let Cullen taste him.

“You're mine,” he whispers, “My perfect, pretty Cullen. You had siblings, didn't you? And you wanted more, I'm sure. You know how important company is for children and you'll bear me so many strong children – our wonderful family.”

Cullen lets out a cry, hole grasping at Samson as his body stiffens and then releases, his seed spurting across his belly. Samson runs a finger through the substance, and then licks himself clean, enjoying the was Cullen gasps. He doesn't care what the men think of him for that. He knows that opinions vary as to why omegas spill in that way, when the seed has no use, but he adores every part of his Cullen and most especially the way reminding him of his cute omega prick makes him flush and writhe on Samson's cock.

“Please,” Cullen pants wildly, “I want… I need you to fill me up. I want to feel your seed spill so our… our babies can grow.” Cullen lifts a hand, stroking across his abdomen as if he could feel them already, and Samson is lost.

For a moment there is nothing but him and his Cullen and the ecstasy coursing through his veins as he spills deep inside Cullen, who hums his satisfaction. He will tear down the veil himself before he lets anyone come between them and the family they will have.

He pulls out slowly, making sure to keep Cullen's hips tipped upwards so that none of Samson's seed leaks out and places a cushion underneath him so that he can rest there while Samson gets up.

The men had been instructed to leave once Samson was done with Cullen, but a few still need glaring at and hurrying along, too caught up in self pleasuring or simply admiring Cullen's form to make their exit unprompted.

Cullen smiles blissfully, hand still rubbing small circles against his belly, as Samson returns to his side.

"They'll still look, you know," Cullen murmurs.

"Yes," Samson admits, "They'll look and remember how pretty and perfect and  _mine_  you are."

Cullen nods and says, "They know now, and when the babies start to grow, everyone will." He grins, pleased and proud, and Samson knows it will be soon.


End file.
